


Fairy Tales of the New (& Old) World

by SolWishes



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Fairy tales but with giant MH monsters, Tell me a story, fairy tale-ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolWishes/pseuds/SolWishes
Summary: Everyone in the New and Old World was once a child, and every child is privy to tales.These are the fairy tales these children were told.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Fairy Tales of the New (& Old) World

**Author's Note:**

> And now for something a little different. This series will be the stories passed down, told between the people of Monster Hunter, and will grow to contain stories from both the Old World and the New World. As such, it will be different from my other one-shot collection.

_Passed down from his father, this story is now passed down to his grandson._

\---

After the land was formed and the humans went about their days, the waters needed guidance. The seas remained in constant toil while the oceans deigned to boil, and so the heart of the world brought the light into the water, and from that potent froth were born streams of endless fish, countless piscine wyverns, innumerable leviathans, and the elder dragons to guide them. They were all given form by the waves, but the greatest of all the waterborne was one that possessed a large horn that grew out and to the right.

The waters obeyed this dragon without question, for it respected the waters, and in turn, the waters respected its place. After many years of a powerful yet unspoken understanding, countless reefs, vast communities, and stable ecosystems the oceans over all bloomed into existence.

And it was beautiful.

The path that this great waterborne dragon took was one that the waters loved to take, and soon the ocean currents were born.

The days lived in water passed by in bliss, with graceful serenity that held purpose, _meaning_ , with each rising and falling of the sun and the moon. Despite the quiet of the watery void, there was always motion, always movement. And every movement meant purpose laid behind each beat of the current.

This purpose was what drove the waterborne dragon with vigor each and every day and night, even if it could not hear or see the presence of the waters and waves that it spoke to. They understood each other, and that was all that mattered.

Then, one day, the dragon felt a strange sensation in its head - a grinding sort of growth that spurred to life within its horn, as a strange bump appeared on the left side of its skull. The sensation grew to irritation, and soon it took to slamming its head upon a seaside cliff.

"What is happening to me?" asked the dragon aloud to the waves and to the waters, to anything that could possibly hear, as it continued to slam itself upon the rocks. But none other than the waters and the waves heard.

 _"You are experiencing a tumultuous change. You are growing,"_ replied the waves, though their friend could not hear.

 _"And as you grow, your vessel shall change,"_ replied the waters, though their friend could not hear.

"It hurts me so!" wailed the dragon, as its head once again made contact with the rock of the cliff.

 _"And from this growth, you shall become stronger all the more for it,"_ said the waves, despite how their friend could not hear.

 _"And with that strength, you will continue to grow and prosper,"_ said the waters, despite how their friend could not hear.

And after several more slams upon the cliff, the dragon ceased its frustrations, and continued on its way. The waters sighed, as the waves washed over the dragon, in hopes that their friend could at least feel their presence.

Many days passed by, and the bump on the left of its skull soon sprouted a bud of bone and hardening. Like a tree, it grew steadily as it shot out, till the base expanded as would a tree trunk. Soon, after many moons and many suns, the bud of bone became a veritable horn that grew above its left eye.

All the while, the right horn only caused an ever-growing irritation, a painful itch it could never scratch, and so the dragon took new paths that drove it to the cliffs, whereupon it would smash its horn upon the rock. Such paths the waters and waves still deigned to follow despite their proximity to shore; thus, the tide was born.

Eventually, the constant travels and the ceaseless slams of its horn upon the cliffs resulted in the dragon falling asleep for the first time in its life, and so it fell into sleep deep beneath the Sapphire Star and its companion, the full moon.

When at last it woke, it screamed out and towards the skies, for it could no longer gaze upon the world it lived in with both eyes. Indeed, its right horn had grown considerably while it had slept, to the point that the bony projection had overtaken its eye.

Its voice wailed, its entire body flailed, as the waves and waters embraced their hurting friend. They held their friend close as it mourned, yet when the waters tried to comfort the dragon, it could not be comforted; when the waves tried to console the dragon, it stayed inconsolable. Their friend only fled, and with a great, lumbering speed.

The waters and waves chased after their friend, though the path wound and weaved every which way, with dangerous obstructions laying in wait at every corner (this path, in time, became the one that rockbound rivers emulated, and the rapids sprouted into being). The chase lasted for many days and many nights, and went until the dragon expended all of its energy from running away. Eventually it stopped, and promptly fell asleep; the waters and the waves proceeded to carry their sullen, sleeping friend back to familiarity; the slower pace they took then became the standard for streams and greater rivers to follow.

When at last they arrived back in familiar water, the dragon slowly came to, and looked around, gazing with its left eye at the great, blue void which surrounded it.

 _"You have experienced pain, and from it, you have grown,"_ said the waters.

 _You have grown, and now you must lead others to be wiser,"_ said the waves.

"But what am I to do, now that I have grown, and now one eye lesser?" asked the dragon, turning to the waters, having not heard the waves.

 _"Hear with the other ear. Now, you can begin to truly see what surrounds you,"_ said the waters, not expecting to have been heard.

 _"And we shall wait for you to see and hear the rest of us,"_ said the waves, swaying in anticipation of finally being heard.

And so the waves waited, as countless eons of the sun and moon passed by. The waters spoke, and the dragon answered. The waves spoke, and the waters passed it on, and the dragon answered. Over the eons, the dragon grew in body, mind, and wisdom. For so long did it live, that countless sun-colored metal particles settled onto its coat, giving it a brilliant shine that covered its entire body. Everywhere it passed, its golden light cast a ray of luminous hope to all able to witness it.

And the only one who could not see the light continued to meander through the waters as if nothing was wrong, for the Emperor of the Ocean, grand and golden in stature, was blind - its left horn had finally overtaken the vestiges of its remaining eye.

Yet when its vision had faded away, the ocean's blue finally exploded into wonder when the water succumbed to black, and the waves appeared before it, and the oceans and all the waters truly manifested before it, as indescribable lights of countless spectrums began to flood the oceans and seas.

 _"You have experienced a tumultuous change, and borne tremendous pain. You have grown into it, and far beyond,"_ said the waves, with a calm belied by eagerness.

The dragon let out a light growl of contentment, then pushed forward.

 _"Now, just as you have guided us, let us now guide you,"_ said the waters, as they, the waves, and the dragon drifted off into the infinite oceans, the water casting a sheen not unlike the golden moon.

\---

_"Grandpa, grandpa, that was a good story! That one was from your home, right? What's the moray?-morale? - of the story?" asked the little boy from his bed._

" _There's never just one in any story, but in this case, perhaps the **moral** is that pain affects all of us; it's how we react to it that changes us. Will you cower away from it, or will you learn and grow from it? Will you run, or will you be stronger for it?"_

_"I never thought it like that." A pause. "That one's from your home, right? Do you know any from here?"_

_The grandfather laughed. "Perhaps, but that would have to wait another night, alright? I'd have to look for a hunter to tell you, with what you're asking for."_

_"Okay, old man!"_

_A light smack on the kid's arm was the grandfather's response. "Go to sleep, you little Garuga!" he said, walking out of his grandson's room, an amused smile on his face._

_"...what's a Garuga?!"_

**Author's Note:**

> If this is something you'd like to see more of, please let me know.  
> As always, comments/constructive criticism is always welcome.  
> Happy hunting!


End file.
